


The Unfortunate Event that led the Demon Crowley and the Angel Aziraphale to come to an Arrangement

by boredom



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Anxious Aziraphale (Good Omens), BAMF Crowley (Good Omens), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fluff, Hurt Aziraphale (Good Omens), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining Crowley (Good Omens), Pre-Canon, Protective Crowley (Good Omens), The Arrangement (Good Omens), crowley is lovesick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 08:43:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20832626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boredom/pseuds/boredom
Summary: It's winter, in Scandinavia. There's a blizzard outside. It's dark. No one would be dumb enough to walk around. So why is Aziraphale wandering outside like's is a sunny spring day? Crowley doesn't like the answer and is willing to come to an agreement if it means keeping his angel safe.





	The Unfortunate Event that led the Demon Crowley and the Angel Aziraphale to come to an Arrangement

**Author's Note:**

> Did I just go to the IMDB page for Vikings and get all my names from there? Yes. Yes I did.

Aziraphale didn’t know why he was forced to travel through Scandinavia without using any miracles. Gabriel had said it was because using miracles on himself were frivolous. His aching, frozen body seemed to disagree. 

He had a horse. _Had_ being the operative word here. It died a few hours… or maybe days ago. Aziraphale didn’t quite know how long he had been walking in this frozen wasteland. He could have miracled the horse back to life but, well, it may have counted as a frivolous miracle, since it was done for his comfort. And he had a sneaking suspicion the horse would have died again anyways. No use prolonging the poor creatures existence if it was just going to suffer. 

It was winter. It was dark. There was currently a blizzard. Aziraphale was lost, trying to miracle some Vikings into doing something. He couldn’t remember what exactly he was supposed to be doing. He was so cold he couldn’t feel his body. 

He slipped and landed in the snow and ice, cuts littering his body. 

“Blast!” he cursed, feeling bad immediately for uttering such a horrid swear word. He tried to push himself back up, but he could only get as far as his hands and knees. He was so cold and so tired. 

He’d be punished for failing his mission, of course. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t allowed to use miracles to keep himself warm. It didn’t matter that his horse died and he was now traveling on foot. It didn’t matter that it was dark and there was no light to guide him. He had failed. He was a failure and would never actually accomplish his mission. It almost like Gabriel had set him up to fail.

“No, he wouldn’t have,” Aziraphale mumbled, sinking back down into the snow. “He wants me to succeed. It’s my fault, really. Should be better. Something like this wouldn’t keep a competent angel down.”

It wouldn’t hurt to sleep. Just for a moment. Never mind he had never actually slept before. 

He heard the crunch of boots, and wondered if it was Gabriel, come to scold him for sloth. He closed his eyes, and waited.

oOoOoOo

Crowley was having a grand old time. Or, about as grand as you can have when your crush shuts down your attempts to spend more time together. 

Okay, Crowley probably could have been more sensitive to Aziraphale. They were canceling each other out, but straight up lying to head office was taking a step too far. 

Still, he was wary about spending the winter with some Scandis up in the middle of nowhere Norway (or was it Sweden, he wasn’t sure who was going to end up owning this particular piece of land yet). 

But the Norse knew how to party and fight and while he wasn’t much for fighting, he was much for drinking. The fact that he was an occult being gave him an advantage as he could easily drink these people under the table. It made them respect him, despite his wiry frame looking like he couldn’t hold a battle axe if his life depended on it. He pleasantly surprised them with that as well. He could hold a battle axe, and wield it. He won most scrimmages against his opponents. 

They also liked his snake eyes and seemed to think that he was either Loki, or one of his many many monster children. It was nice not to have to shield his eyes for once. And he did like being worshiped as a god. A little blasphemy never killed anybody. 

Very quickly, Crowley had risen through the ranks of this little viking enclave to be the leader. Head office had given him a commendation, and this time it was something he actually had a hand in creating. 

He was in such a good mood that when one of his knaves (or whatever viking lackeys were called) stood up and announced he was going for a walk in the blizzard, Crowley let him go. If he wanted to freeze to death in this blizzard, that was his choice. Crowley, meanwhile, would keep drinking, laughing, and telling rowdy tales to the delight of his current group of… groupies. Whatever, he was drunk, he didn’t need to come up with more descriptive names. 

A few hours had passed and the suicidal viking was forgotten. Crowley was about mid-way through a lovely tale of a bar fight he had instigated in Rome. He was stretching the truth a bit, making it seem as though he had played a greater part than what he actually did. 

(What he actually did was walk up to one Roman Legion and tell him that his best friend was sleeping with his betrothed. Luckily, the amount of toxic masculinity swirling around the bar meant that every one very quickly started throwing punches and Crowley left before he could get so much as a scratch. He had gotten a commendation for that as well.)

He was almost to the crescendo of the story. You had to tell these things with a certain level of skill lest it become a rambling, uninteresting mess. The knaves were leaning in, grins on their faces as he was about to deliver the final punch. There was tension in the air. Anticipation. Oh he had these guys and gals wrapped around his fingers. This was going to be the best rendition of the story. 

“And then I said to him--”

Bam!

Everyone jumped and turned to see the viking who had left earlier slamming open the door and carrying in a body. 

“Oh, come on, Bjorn.” Crowley groaned. “I was just getting to the best part.”

“Found him in the snow. He’s still alive.” Bjorn made no indication that he had even heard Crowley. 

It pissed him off. “Why didn’t you leave him there? Throw him back out. Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to drag home strangers in a blizzard.” 

“My mum died when I was a baby.” Bjorn stated before dumping the unconscious man on the floor. 

The vikings crowded around him. 

“Looks like one of them monks we pillage,” Ubbe said. 

Crowley snarled and guzzled the last bit of mead in his flagon. The evening had been going so well. Bloody British. Couldn’t get away from them even in the middle of this frozen wasteland. 

“Maybe he’s a slave that escaped from one of the other enclaves around here. I heard Aethelwulf brought back a lot of them in the summer.” 

They shifted just enough so Crowley could see the man’s face. His non-existent heart stopped. 

Laying on the ground in his Mead hall was Aziraphale, looking blue and frostbitten and close to death. He swallowed, mind racing with what to do next. He couldn’t just leave him to be poked and prodded by these guys. 

Then again, Aziraphale did reject his proposal. Maybe he should let him be poked and prodded. Then, when he woke up, Crowley would stick his tongue out at him and kick him back out into the snow. Served him right for not wanting to hang out. Not that Crowley was bitter or anything. He didn’t need Aziraphale. Look at all of these people willing to bow down at his feet!

Dammit. 

“Take him to my chambers and warm him up.” Crowley used his ‘I’m a god so do as I say’ voice. 

The vikings snickered. “Oh, I didn’t know you were into that sort of thing, boss.” 

Crowley wrinkled his nose. He had, on several occasions, fantasized about what Aziraphale would be like in bed. The whole “arrangement” thing had come up as part of Crowley’s 667 step plan to get Aziraphale to fall in love with him (there were originally 666 steps, but he didn’t want to accidentally invoke Satan while trying to woo Aziraphale). 

But the thought that Crowley was going to use Aziraphale as simply a bed warmer, well it made him sick. 

“No, I want to know what the hell he’s doing out here. As a god, I have power over mortals.” He casually let his serpentine tongue slip out and made the candles flicker. The vikings shivered. 

“As you wish, my lord. We shall prepare a luke-warm bath for him.” 

Crowley followed them up, worried that Aziraphale’s corporation had indeed turned blue. What was this idiot doing all the way out here? Surely he couldn’t be looking for Crowley. Why didn’t he use a miracle to keep himself warm? Why didn’t he have a horse or sled dog team or something, for Satan’s sake?

They reached the bedchambers and some of his servants made a move to disrobe Aziraphale. Crowley stopped them. 

“I’ll take it from here. You guys go do whatever it is you do when I’m not looking.” 

He didn’t know if Aziraphale had enough in him to make an effort. And he didn’t know what the vikings would do should they discover this human looking thing's lack of genitalia. His servants nodded and scampered off. 

“You know, when I pictured disrobing you for the first time, I thought it’d be a lot sexier,” Crowley said as he got rid of Aziraphale’s soaked, frozen clothes and put him in the tub. 

Aziraphale made a small gasping noise but otherwise stayed quiet. Crowley miracled his body to be warmer and once he was sure Aziraphale wouldn’t go into shock from a sudden temperature change, he lifted him out of the tub, dried him off and put him in bed. 

He stared down at him. It would be better if Crowley got in bed with him… preferably naked or just about. His residual body heat would do a much better job at getting Aziraphale warmer quicker than Aziraphale on his own. 

But he didn’t know how he would react should he wake up and discover both of them in bed, naked, and … cuddling. Oh Satan, these were all of Crowley’s fantasies come true in the worst way possible. 

“Satan give me strength,” he sighed before slipping out of all but his skivvies and sliding into bed with Aziraphale. 

“I swear, if you kill me when you wake up, I’m never saving your arse again.” 

The hours ticked by and slowly Aziraphale’s corporation returned to a more normal temperature. Because he wasn’t human, it was difficult to tell when he was back at his normal temperature. Crowley hadn’t made a habit of taking his temperature when he was healthy. And as a snake, Crowley tended to be colder to begin with. There were a lot of minor miracles and internal temperature regulation that had to be done constantly so Crowley could function, especially up here. 

Finally, Aziraphale shifted. “What?” His voice was thick with sleep, quiet enough that Crowley barely heard him. 

“Don’t panic, but you had hypothermia and frostbite, I’m warming you up,” Crowley said. 

He enjoyed being curled around Aziraphale. It made him feel safe and warm. He liked feeling Aziraphale’s back pressed to his chest. He liked feeling his heartbeat and his breaths. He liked being surrounded in that Angelic smell that was much sweeter and purer than any scent on Earth. He didn’t want this to end, but he knew it must. 

“Crowley?” 

“Yeah. You’re lucky one of my knaves found you. Probably would have died in this blizzard.” 

Aziraphale shifted so they were face to face. He looked awful. His normally curly and fluffy hair was slicked to his forehead, dull and lifeless. There were dark circles under his eyes and his skin had a disturbing grey pallor to it. 

“Thank you, my dear. I don’t suppose this is Aethelwulf’s settlement.” 

Crowley shook hit head. “Sorry, that’s still about fifty or so miles west.”

He sighed. “Oh dear. I was hoping I would have to travel much farther.” He slipped from Crowley’s embrace and sat up. 

Crowley pushed himself up. “Where do you think you’re going?” 

“To the settlement. I’m meant to be there in… what day is it?” 

“You’re not going anywhere. You’re still recovering.” He tried to pull Aziraphale back onto the bed. The bastard was stronger than he looked. Stubborn like a bloody mule. 

“No offense, but I don’t take orders from you. I'm meant to deliver this bible to Aethewulf by the third full moon of the year. If I still have fifty miles to go, then I can’t waste any time here. Thank you for saving me, but I must be going now. Where are my clothes?” 

Crowley growled and grabbed his hair. How fucking stubborn could this angel be? 

“If you go back out there, you might die… get discorporated. Wouldn’t it be better to wait until the blizzard stops? Or at least use a miracle so it won’t happen again?” 

“I will not use miracles to satisfy my own comforts. It is lazy,” Aziraphale said, though it sounded like he was repeating what had been told to him, not original thoughts. 

Crowley’s eye twitched. Those bastards. Those feather-brained bastards. They actually gave Aziraphale this impossible task, knowing he would fail. Didn’t they? They wanted a reason to ridicule him, to bully him. 

He glanced at Aziraphale, who was wincing as he put on his still wet and cold garments. He was too far gone. Crowley would never be able to convince him to stay here for a few days and recover. Unless… 

He snapped his fingers and his clothes appeared on him, dry and warm. They knew better than to be cold. 

He put a hand on Aziraphale’s shoulder and turned him so they were staring into each others eyes. 

“That’s very noble of you to do your job, even when injured.” His voice came out like honey. 

Aziraphale’s brow furrowed, but he didn’t look away from Crowley’s eyes. “What are you doing?” 

“Nothing. Just talking to you while you get ready to go.” He didn’t dare blink. He could get away with blinking if he were to do this on a human. But he didn’t want to risk breaking the connection with an angel. Especially one as stubborn as Aziraphale. 

The shirt dropped to the floor. “Oh.”

“Do you really want to go to Aethelwulf’s settlement?”

“Yes, of course. It’s my job.” Aziraphale’s voice was getting softer, less sure.

“Of course. You’re a good angel. You always do your job.” He purred. 

Aziraphale nodded. 

“Do you want to go to Aethelwulf’s settlement?”

Aziraphale made a noise of protest in the back of his throat. 

“Don’t worry, angel. It’s just us here. I won’t judge you. You can tell me.” 

“No. It’s cold and dark. I don’t know how to get there without any miracles. It feels like Gabriel wanted me to fail,” he said, his voice becoming slightly hysterical towards the end. 

“It’s okay, angel,” Crowley said, shushing him and continuing to stare into his eyes. Aziraphale hadn’t blinked once. His gaze was fixed. Perfect. “You don’t want to go.”

“But I have to. The full moon is close.” 

“Yes, of course. Don’t you think you’d have an easier time if you slept a bit longer?”

“Slept a bit… longer?”

Crowley grabbed his hand and pulled him back to the bed. “Yes. Just a bit longer.” He pushed Aziraphale so he was sitting on the bed. “Now, tell me exactly what Gabriel wanted you to do.”

“He wanted me to give the bible to Aethelwulf and then bless his son to spread the word of Heaven around, bringing peace and prosperity.” 

Crowley suppressed a snort. How was this supposed to secure souls for Heaven’s side? Still he couldn’t be too critical. He couldn’t scare off Aziraphale. 

“I see. How about this? When I count to three, you are going to do whatever you want to do. I’m not forcing you to do anything. It’s all within your control. One. Two. Three.” 

Aziraphale slumped over and Crowley caught him, relieved to see the angel asleep. 

“Thank somebody.” There was always a chance that Aziraphale wanted something else. He was glad he read the situation correctly. 

It was a dirty trick, hypnotizing Aziraphale like this. But, to be fair, had Aziraphale not been sick, Crowley never would have been able to do it. 

He did a quick demonic miracle to ensure all of the vikings forgot about Crowley’s guest, grabbed the bible and made his way to Aethelwulf’s settlement. 

He was there two days before the full moon. Tossed him the bible, blessed his son, and was out of there in less than an hour. If anyone from Hell came knocking, Crowley could easily say he was spreading ferment. After all, polytheism and monotheism didn’t get along. And the vikings didn’t have a great relationship with the Christians. It was a perfect cover story. 

Crowley forgot about how he had left Aziraphale. 

The slap to the face had been unexpected. 

“You bastard!” Aziraphale said, his face red with rage. “You snake! You tricked me!” 

“Easy, angel. Easy,” Crowley said, wondering if he should leave now or risk Aziraphale’s wrath. 

“Don’t ‘angel’ me, you tricked me. You dirty, low, evil…”

“You were halfway to death’s door. You needed to rest.” 

“You don’t get to make those decisions!” 

“Look, I did what that wing-wanker Gabriel wanted you to do. What does it matter if I did it or you did it?” 

“It matters because you didn’t ask. You hypnotized me and ran off to do my job! What if you had messed it all up? What if Gabriel found out?” 

“But he didn’t.” Crowley said, Glad Aziraphale had stopped throwing things at him. “You were going to freeze to...discorporation out there if I let you go. I don’t want that to happen so I let you fall asleep here and recover. Everything went according to plan.” 

The fight left Aziraphale and he sunk down onto the bed. “Oh, I must be so useless if a demon can do my job better than me.” 

Damn, that was not the response Crowley had been hoping for. 

“It’s not that I do your job better than you. I don’t think I’d be able to make it to the settlement if I had been traveling as long as you. Remember, I wasn’t suffering from frost-bite when I left.” 

Aziraphale looked at him. “You don’t have to lie to me.” 

“I also used a ton of miracles to get there. The fact that you made it as far as you did without miracles, that’s pretty amazing, angel.” 

Aziraphale still didn’t seem convinced. 

“I promise you, I don’t lie to you. I will never lie to you. You can trust me.” 

“Well then, I suppose I owe you a favor. Not sure I enjoy being indebted to you.” 

Crowley didn’t know if he should feel insulted or not. 

“How about this,” he suggested, “How about we come to an arrangement?” 

Aziraphale furrowed his brow. “An arrangement?”

“Yeah. It makes no sense that you should have had to travel all the way up here when I was already here to begin with. That’s going to happen a lot, I feel. World’s not that big. So, instead of us both running around, why don’t we make an arrangement. If one of us is already in the area, we let the other know and they can take care of both temptation and thwarting.” 

Aziraphale looked down at his hands. “I don’t know. Wouldn’t that be lying?” 

“No. My lot send me missions, but they never say I have to be the one to do them. What about your lot?”

“I suppose Gabriel never says I can’t use other means to get things done.” He stood up and started pacing. “What if neither of us are in the place of the temptation or blessing?” 

“Then we’ll flip a coin.’ Crowley shrugged. 

Aziraphale sighed and looked at him. “I--I don’t know. It feels wrong.” 

“Think it over then, I’ll be here for a few more weeks at least. And you can hang around for a bit, make sure you get all your strength back. The worst of winter is almost over.”

“How do I know you won’t just give me all your work to do?” 

“Ouch, angel.” Crowley held a hand to his heart. “I’m not a demon of sloth you know.” 

“Really, you seem to laze about enough.”

Crowley pursed his lips. “I promise you, I won’t give you all my work.”

Aziraphale nodded. “And you’re not allowed to use your powers on me. I still can’t believe you did that.” 

“I promise not to hypnotize you again.” 

“Alright then. I accept your proposal.” Aziraphale held out his hand. 

Crowley stared at it. 

“You’re supposed to shake it, sort of to indicate you also accept the terms of the proposal,” Aziraphale said. 

“I know what to do with it,” Crowley snipped. “I’m just shocked it was that easy. Thought I’d have to bring in lawyers or something.”

“As long as everything is fair and you’re not using this to trick me. I do think it would be more advantageous for the both of us.” 

“Of course, angel.” 

Crowley did stick to his word and didn’t give Aziraphale everything that came his way. However, when they had to flip a coin, he cheated a little. First he would get all the information about the blessing from Aziraphale. Then he would decide if Gabriel was creating an impossible task for the sole purpose of seeing Aziraphale fail. If he decided he was, the coin landed in Aziraphale’s favor. If it wasn’t, Crowley left it up to chance. Aziraphale never seemed to catch on and Crowley was grateful. The things Gabriel had him do in the name of Heaven, it made his skin crawl. Those bastards were gas-lighting him and this was the only thing Crowley could do at the moment. 

But it did ensure that Aziraphale never ended up half-dead on his doorstep because of Heaven again. Maybe one day Aziraphale would finally break free. When he did, Crowley would be there for him. He would be there to show him he deserved better. Crowley couldn’t wait for that day.

**Author's Note:**

> Not quite done hammering out all my angst with these two so here's some more fics! 
> 
> Come say hi on Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/springapreppe


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